


Aeonian

by ninjabuuu



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Unrequited Love, agendered character, also your friend is Kinda Gay for you, and then shit happens, it's not rEALLY CHROBIN??? but it's p darn close, kiiiiinda olivia/chrom if u squint mega hard, lucina is kind of an asshole, sorry - Freeform, tfw youre in love with your best friend and theyre in love with you too but you dont tell em
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjabuuu/pseuds/ninjabuuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t something that Chrom was ready to admit, but when he saw Lucina with her eyes lit like fire, sword arm trembling, the tip of the sacred blade pointed at the edge of Robin’s pale neck, ice swept through his lungs and froze the breath in his throat.  The tactician looked at the princess, pale eyes hardly fluttering as she held Robin at her sword's exalted will. Chrom didn’t want to admit that his heart slowed to a deadly stop, his chest constricted and caved in the peculiarly familiar, hollow way it had before.</p>
<p>He realized, in moment of thought, that it felt just like when he had seen Emmeryn on the top of that cliff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aeonian

**Author's Note:**

> honestly im such a slut for angst
> 
> (edited december 1st 2016 and THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AGENDER ROBIN AND THERE WERE SO MANY PRONOUN MISTAKES!!!!!) originally it was written for pronoun-less Robin (aka you could interpret them however you'd like) BUTTTTT im bad @ that (so you will notice most of the fic avoids the use of pronouns in regards to Robin. if they do mention them it's with they/them/theirs pronouns. if you find mistakes TELL ME PLEAS)

*

heaven rested upon pale shoulders, and the stars all kissed each other goodnight

*

 

Chrom had never lived with any regrets in his life. Taking the bad and trying to change it, as well as embracing the good . Fighting had always been a part of the equation, for respect was shown through hard work and skill. These were things that had always been with him, from before the time he could recall to them.

Until he met Robin, whose moon-lit eyes and mysterious smiles made Chrom question all the things he did. Robin earned respect not only through brawn and sword work, but also through skill and intelligence. The tactician wove all of the soldiers between thin fingers, holding all of their lives in skilled hands and guiding their band of loose-knit soldiers in and out of every battle alive each time.

Robin made him want to try harder. Robin filled the well that sat deep in his chest, one he did not know existed until it was brimming with trust, respect and something more.

*****

                “Good morning,” He looked up from his desk, the words along the parchment blending and fuzzing with sleep until they were grey, jagged lines. “Or, should I say good evening to you. Have you slept yet?” Robin stood before him, sleep rubbed out of pale eyes and the buttons out of order. Chrom let a weary smile at the sight. Dawn had yet to rise, and judging by the amount of dancing candle that Chrom had left, he had several hours before it was so.

                “I am almost finished up here,” He offered, though the disgruntled sound Robin made was one of disbelief. “Really, I’ve completed looking over these documents. You can approve them if you’d like.”

                “Will there be drool along these pages?” Robin chuckled. “Though I hardly understand why _I’m_ the one approving these, with you being the captain of the army.” Chrom blinked wearily. Robin was the chief tactician, which made the pale strategist equivalent of second in command.

                “Just read them,” Chrom waved, stretching and letting his sore muscles wring out. “I probably made mistakes, with how late it is. Make sure I put the mages in the back this time, and not right up front.” Robin chuckled at that.

                “That was a one-time mistake, your highness.” Nonetheless, Robin begun scanning them over, flipping the papers over and squinting in the low light. “I will formally review them when dawn comes. Come on now.” Robin set the papers down and walked over to the exalt, helping him stand and letting the feeling return to his legs. “You are becoming an old man,” Robin snickered, the sound bouncing off the tarp of the heavy tent.

                “I am not,” Chrom returned, though a smile tugged at his face. “I am hardly any older than you are, and I am the old man?” He let some of his weight fall onto the tactician, and the two of them maneuvered out of the tent and into the starry night.

                “I suppose that is true.” Robin mused. Silence washed over the two as they stood under twinkling stars that lit the path before them.

                “You’re returning to sleep after this, right?” Chrom asked once they begun the walk towards Chrom’s tent. “There is quite some time until the sun comes up.”

                “Maybe,” Robin breathed. “I was hoping to do some catch-up, sit outside for a little bit.”

                “Catch up on what? I do not imagine there is anything in your tent that you haven’t memorized,” Chrom said, rolling his shoulders and hearing them crack and pop.

                “You are such a jest.” Robin muttered, lips turned into a smile. They arrived at Chrom’s tent, barely hearing the gentle breathing of Olivia from inside. “Now, should I come and tuck you in? Perhaps his majesty wants some warm milk?”

                “Who is the jest now?” Chrom bit. Robin rolled tired eyes, releasing hold on the exalt and letting him stand straight. “Well, thank you for carrying me, Robin. It’s good to know that now I have two people nannying over me.”               

                “I will never take Frederick’s job away from him,” Robin smiled. “Good night, Chrom.”

                “Good night to you, Robin.” Chrom called, silently entering the tent. Olivia made no movement as he pulled off his cloak and heavy clothes, and she only moved closer when he dipped into the bed.

*

                It wasn’t something that Chrom was ready to admit, but when he saw Lucina with her eyes lit like fire, sword arm trembling, the tip of the sacred blade pointed at the edge of Robin’s pale neck, ice swept through his lungs and froze the breath in his throat.  

                The tactician looked at the princess, pale eyes hardly fluttering as she held him at her sword's exalted will. Chrom didn’t want to admit that his heart slowed to a deadly stop, his chest constricted and caved in the peculiarly familiar, hollow way it had before. Robin stared their death in the face

                He realized, in moment of thought, that it felt just like when he had seen Emmeryn on the top of that cliff.                

                The first thing Chrom felt was fear. Robin was going to die. The Robin who kept him up till dawn, reviewing and revisiting their plans until perfection was beyond them. Robin who could jest and joke about anything, yanking the spirits of the army into high, electric resolve. Robin whose hair resembled the pure stars at night. Whose frame was lanky and bony, who had long fingers and a burning scar along the left hand. Robin whose body would tremble with the power of lightning when a spell was cast. Robin who could go steel to steel with the prince of Ylisse, and hold a very decent fight. 

                Despite Chrom's first reaction towards Lucina being rage, he felt the fear of madness and sorrow radiating off her. She had witnessed the despair that Grima impose, felt fear in its purest and most undiluted for, trained to withstand more than Chrom even had the capacity to bear. She was younger than him—hell, she was his _daughter_ —and her mind had been tainted with all sorts of things, marred with the six-eyed beast who brought with it the end of the world, the vessel standing right before th—

                No. Robin was no Grimleal. Robin was… Robin. The tactician was kind and gentle and a jest and caring and brave. A motivational speaker, a personal friend to all soldiers amongst the camps, a terrible cook, a warrior, a mage, a swords master, a tactician, a genius, a friend, a soul mate, a parent, a person with beautiful, intelligent sparks that lit the back of ashen eyes. A singer, a storyteller, a jest, a lover....

                Not a Grimleal. 

                Yet here Robin was, accepting death as it was thrust upon shoulders that Chrom knew carried more guilt than the world could supply. Accepting death as if it was expected, a consequence for a crime Robin had not committed.

                “Very well,” Robin’s voice was completely gone of any tremble or lilt. “I forfeit my life.” Lucina was not expecting that as an answer, tears pouring down her face and staining her tunic and cape. She rubbed them away furiously, straightening her sword arm and knocking the tip of Falchion against the bend of the tactician's neck. Robin's eyes slipped close, the final acceptance of death.

                “Godspeed, Robin.” She whispered. The wind howled around them, casting Robin’s cloak around, and Lucina’s cape gusting behind her like that of a tragedy. She spoke her final words, yet there was no movement in her sword arm, extended in trembling force but with no motion to bring death to the person in front of it.

 

               Was this it? Was Robin going to die? Their shoulders shook minutely as they continued to meet Lucina's gaze.

 

                Breath escaped Chrom’s chest in a rapid sort of choked gasp, his mind reeling as he realized that Robin was going to die. Robin would die just like Emmeryn did, would die and slip out of Chrom’s fingertips and wither away when Chrom was just a brush away from saving him—

 

 

                “Enough!” Chrom shouted before his mind registered the words leaving his lips. Lucina snapped to attention and looked at her father, her face warping to one of regret. Robin’s eyes opened and regarded Chrom, whirling with blurry emotions that warded off in unsteady waves.

                “Father, I—“ Lucina began, her voice broken.

                “Lucina, lower your sword,” Chrom said, running towards her. Her arm twitched, the end of the gleaming weapon waning in the harsh sunlight.

                “But fat-“ She tried, desperation pushing her words out of her heart.

                “LOWER YOUR SWORD!” Chrom bellowed, anger rising from the pit of his stomach and escaping his throat aggressively. She flinched, and slowly drew Falchion back from her outwards position, choosing not to comment on the speck of blood that smeared the tip of the radiant blade. Chrom saw the almost invisible scab along Robin’s neck, and disregarded it for the current issue at hand.

                Chrom took a deep breath. Robin was silent, staring at the tip of lanky fingers and marveling at how they would not stop trembling.

                Lucina’s face was drawn of all color. “..I can explain,” she said hoarsely.

                “There’s no need. You’re not the only one who can eavesdrop”. Chrom started, anxiety rolling off his back like water down the washboard. It left him feeling hollow inside, as if there was nothing in his body sever his rapid heartbeat. Lucina bristled at the memory. “I heard every word. Lucina, I know your heart is in the right place...” Chrom looked over towards Robin, whose pale eyelashes shone with the fire of the sun. “ But I trust Robin. You cannot shake my faith in them.”

                Hurt was evident in her exalted eyes, her voice shaking with steel resolve. “This is not about trust! They'll be the death of you!” Chrom shook his head at his daughter, feeling bitter about her words. How could she have such little faith in Robin? He looked over at the tactician.

                “Robin and I have held fast through good times and ill... We swore to be two halves of a greater whole.” Chrom didn’t miss the way Robin flinched, as if pain had come. “You underestimate the strength of those ties, the bonds we share. I believe in them more than some foretold ‘destiny.’”

                “That is easier to say when you haven't seen it yourself...You do not know of the past, father.” She begun, the words sour on her tongue. “Forgive me for saying this, but I do. And I know where they stem.” She looked at Robin again. “And I know from _whom_ they stem.” Robin did not waver at the accusation. “And it seemed most logical for me to cut the problem off at its root, does it not?” Chrom realized that she was quoting his words from an earlier battle meeting; however, now the tables had turned against his favor.

                Whatever Chrom was expecting as an answer, it was not that. Lucina had hardened, and she was much more aware of her standing in this world than whatever he had initially thought. She was so surely built on having a purpose, to stop Grima from taking over this timeline as they had failed in the previous one. Her, and all the other children who had traveled through time with her, were so set on achieving their goal, death and destruction had been etched into their bones and tattooed all over them, until that was all they knew.

                And she had a goal now. To kill Robin, to kill any possibilities that Robin would, in turn, kill Chrom and become a successful vessel to Grima. It was completely logical, right? Frederick would applaud her for steadfast thinking. If it were any other person, maybe Chrom would too. But, it was Robin. And he would be damned before he let Robin slip through his grasp.

                “The past and now are two different times, Lucina.” Chrom said. She looked surprised and confused at his words. Robin even looked up, confusion quaint in their stare. “The bonds in this time are stronger than before.” Chrom was spewing words faster than they could align in his mind properly. “And with no difficulty do I say that I trust Robin with all of my life.” Robin’s eyebrows crinkled together. “And I believe the feeling is mutual among the both of us.” Lucina opened her mouth to speak, but Chrom continued. “And we will be here, fighting with you. I refuse to let the burden of saving the world fall onto your shoulders again.”

                Lucina’s shoulders trembled with his last words, her frame curving in on itself but no tears leaving her eyes anymore. Chrom, reaching out to embrace her out of an automated sense of responsibility, made no remark as she took the smallest step back away from his extended arm. She had hurt him too deeply to accept his kindness now. She kept her stare trained on the persimmon-hued grass that cradled her feet, refusing to look over at Robin and the mess she had created.

                                                                                                       *

                Robin was beautiful. Chrom marveled at the grandmaster’s ability to swing a mighty blade and shout ancient magic, looking radiant all the while. Robin’s ivory hair had grown out into a ponytail, trademark Grimleal cloak was shining with the dragon’s power.

                “Chrom!” Robin was next to the exalt in a moment, pushing past the smog of dying Risen. Grima laughed before them, purple eyes shining in the light of the chasing sunset. Chrom knew the dragon was weak, for the claws that adorned the dragon's familiar cloak were trembling and every now and then, the scales beneath them would tremor and waver.

                Behind them, wyverns screeched and metals clashed, shouts and screams filling the air with the smell of blood and Risen. In front of them sat the manifestation of Grima, grinning and sending obtrusive spikes in the direction of the pair who neared the head of the dragon. It would not be long until the mighty dragon fell. Chrom felt the exalted Falchion radiating in his palm, power coursing along its royal hilt and through his entire being. He could, would end this mess.

                Another slash at Grima, and he backed away just in time before the spears jolted from the dragon’s back into the place he was once standing. Behind him, Robin was chanting spells from the age-old lightning tome that zapped and sparked to the foreign language. A glaringly hot and fast jolt of lightning blew over Chrom’s head and hit the tactician’s double self, straight in the chest between the clasps of the blowing coat.

                “Grima’s almost done!” Chrom grounded his feet, adrenaline soaring through his veins and pumping wildly through his heart as the dragon let out a screeching roar.

                Chrom looked once at the blade in his grip, then back at his family. They all fought the Risen, with nasty cuts and swelling bruises. And though they were all highly trained soldiers, Risen appeared at the dragon’s will again and again, more replacing each one that fell.

                Chrom looked at Robin, whose eyes held an unreadable look in them. Silver light cast off the angry reds and oranges that slashed the sky all around them, the glint of lightning and glow of wispy white hair giving the tactician an intoxicating aura.

                The blade in Chrom's hands was purely glowing, Naga’s power coursing along the polished metal and shining in the exalt’s eyes. He knew that he could do this. He could kill Grima and all of the world’s problems would sink with the dragonesque in front of him. He could put the dragon to sleep for ages.

                Grima staggered in front of him, purple ink and dust hazing around the form of the dying dragon. Feeling fire course through his veins and power whispered into him from Naga, Chrom took a step towards Grima.

                He rose his blade, arms sore from swinging nonstop. It would all end here. He heard his heart pounding alarms through his ears and his mind cleared from any thoughts but to swing his sword.

                It was such a simple action, and with the weakened state that Grima was in, it would be easy.

                _Now, Awakener!_ He heard a voice in his head, one that did not belong. Behind his eyes for a moment it was Naga, then the shadow disappeared.

                He took his sword and slammed it down, fiery blade slicing into—

 

                Chrom was pushed back by an obtrusive force, Falchion almost blowing away from him as he landed ungracefully farther away, the scales rubbing uncomfortably into his back.

 

                The dragon didn’t possess wind magic.

 

Grima’s only source of power was the angry spikes that protruded from the ground beneath them. There were wind wielders, but no one was close enough to Chrom to be able to hit him and send him backwards, no one exc—

 

                Robin.

 

                “Robin?!” Chrom scrambled, just as he saw Robin’s cloak before him, facing the weak dragon. “Wait, what-"

 

                The dragon shouted to Robin, whose murky eyes were ablaze.

 

*

                Chrom flew back with the spell the second it left Robin’s lips. Seeing the exalt land the way he did gave Robin an unfamiliar feeling, but it was pushed aside.

 

                Turning to Grima, whose weakened face could barely raise to meet the ivory haired tactician’s gaze, Robin pushed the wind tome aside for the radiant thunder tome with withering pages and falling bindings.

 

*

 

                “WHAT ARE YOU DOING,” the dragon screeched, wispy ink pouring out of Grima’s shaking hands.           

 

                “For once, I’m glad you and I are the same.” Robin said, voice soft, yet carrying over to where the Risen began to sink and disappear, until the army was left to hear the tactician’s voice amongst blowing smoke and the rich scent of blood. There were stars dancing in Chrom’s mind, loud sirens wailing in his ear s _no no nononononononoononono Robin what are you doing Ro_ — “Now I can give my life to protect those I care for,” Robin mused, wild ivory hair tumbling around as the dragon shook and trembled.

 

                “YOU WOULD.. NOT … DARE” Grima sputtered, voice coming in between noisy wails of pain and heavy breathing. Chrom looked between his tactician and the dragon's humanoid form. Fear melted into his chest and made his mind sore from the way his heartbeat was clapping in his chest, thumping and thrumming on hyperdrive and rooting him to the spot.             

  

                 The dragon blew back fierce winds of black and spikes burst from the ground, surrounding them in a cage of inky, bleeding daggers. Chrom’s ears were pounding, his heart pounding his head pounding his eyes pounding Robin was going to di—

 

                “I would and I will.” Robin’s voice oozed into steel, porcelain feature sculpted into bravery and anger. But even Chrom noticed the way the tactician’s hands trembled along with the heroic words.   “The evils you would visit on this world are unthinkable,” Grima let out another irritated whine as the scales shook ferociously. Persimmon slashes cut along the sky, dying red and oranges tinting the world around them. Chrom’s heart steeled in his chest, numbing out the agony in his arm from overworked muscles.

 

                “In some way, I—“ Robin hesitated. “We share the blame. “ The wind howled. Chrom felt his limbs dying and protesting while he struggled to stand.

 

 

    “It’s only fitting that we meet our end together!” Robin turned around at those final words, and gave Chrom one last knowing look, eyes crinkled with _something,_ in an unreadable way, before opening the ancient thunder tome.

 

 

                Chrom finally got to his feet, scrambling to stop Robin as time slowed down to an achingly slow speed. As if the gods and the whole world were holding their breath for Robin. The tactician’s cloak blew around like a cape in hanging winds, shielding Chrom from the electric pull in the air.

 

 

                Robin’s mouth moved around the tome’s language with ease, the familiar words apart of memory. The air felt static and alive, crackling lit along the edges of the book as Robin’s eyes met Grima’s while agonizing screams ripped through the dragon.

 

 

                Lightning clapped down on Grima, casting the body in a shell of glory and light. The bright, powerful spell was gone as quick as it had started, and Grima’s body turned to dust.

 

 

                Robin’s feet begun to fade. Chrom grabbed onto the familiar sleeves, commanding his body to cease its ridiculous tremors.

 

 

                “Robin,” He breathed, the glitter and shine of Robin’s disappearing body casting heavy smog around him. “Robin, no!”

 

 

                “Thank you, Chrom,” Robin put a hand on Chrom’s shoulder, meeting his gaze with trust and a smile so familiar it melted some of the static buzzing in the lord's ears.

 

 

                “For everything,,,” Chrom wrapped himself around the fading body of Robin, whose arms wound around the exalt in return. Chrom felt hot tears burn and blur his vision, but he held onto Robin with a vice grip as the tactician who he loved melted away before him. The sun cast bright colors onto Robin’s white hair, giving it a serene glow.

 

 

                The words Robin said were rooting themselves along Chrom’s chest and into his heart, lacing and stitching and bringing pained breathing to his lungs and stabbing pains to his muscles.

 

 

                “Tell the others, that my last thoughts were of them,” Robin’s voice was trembling in Chrom’s ear, as cloaked arms started to fade out of Chrom’s grasp. Robin pulled his head back so his eyes were locked with Chrom’s wet ones. Despite the glitter surround them, the tactician seemed completely calm, as if they were discussing manners of little importance and Robin was not fading before the both of them.

 

 

 

                “We will meet again,” Robin’s voice came out as a whisper as the fading rose, faster and faster in each moment of a second. “in a better life…”

 

 

 

 

                “Robin!” Chrom shouted. “Ah gods, Robin!” Robin's smile wobbled, with time and the world around them ground to a stop and the sun shining against the dust. Chrom saw fear in pale eyes, for a moment, as their face came loose around the edges and growing dimmer.

 

 

 

 

                               And then, Robin was gone.

*


End file.
